Title: Ran a
Pairing: Wes/Faith (not necessarily 'shippy)
Thanks to: marriednmichigan for a generous beta job!
Summary: Post-NFA - Faith hears about Wesley.
Brits know how to say goodbye.
Not that he bothered. Of course not. Guy heads off into the fight of his life, can't waste time calling his … a Slayer.
I could have been there. Could have helped. Definitely could have saved his sorry ass, not that he deserved it.
Wes is such a guy sometimes. Like he's too cool to ask for help or something. Hell, I have an entire army of Slayers practically vibrating with excitement at the chance to fight real evil. Seems like aiming a few of them California-ward might have been a smart idea. So much for Watcher smarts.
He could have at least called. Let people know what they were doing. Even if he didn't want help, he could at least have done that. What, they don't have phones at Evil & Associates?
Angel found a phone. Called B, but at least he called someone, even if it was too late. Didn't call me, of course. Take a mindwalk with a guy, you'd think he'd at least call you himself. No, I get to hear this from B, of all people.
Not like there was much to hear. Cell phone lost connection or something. All of L.A.'s been cut off since then. All lines currently busy, as they say. Government kept marching in soldiers and firefighters with their shiny helmets and walkie-talkies. No one's come marching out yet.
All B could stammer out after the call was that Wes and Gunn were gone. Couldn't even say the word.
Dead. They were dead. For real dead, not that bizarre temporary version the SunnyD crowd tends to catch.
It's not like I was ever going to apologize. Stuff in the past should stay there. We were never going to hug and cry and learn and grow. But we got somewhere last time. I don't know where, but something changed. You know that feeling you get in your gut sometimes?
Obviously Wes didn't. If he could just run off and get himself killed without a word … bastard probably hadn't given me a second thought since I left L.A. "Thanks for saving our asses, see ya around. Don't call us, we'll call you."
Better have been worth it. If he threw away his pathetic life for some grand Good, it better be pretty fucking awesome.
I heard the Council's starting up again. 'Cause being a Slayer's no fun without stuffy English guys telling you what to do, right?. Actually read that memo, the one with all those fancy names. Giles caught me and I had to be quick like and toss it in B's box without finishing.
Never really believed his name was on it anyway. He wasn't that guy anymore. Hell, I'm not that girl anymore, whether he believed it or not. We're too old for the game.
He didn't like me smoking in L.A.. What's that about? Like I'm gonna make it to my 25th birthday anyway. Lung cancer, not really an issue. He gets uptight over the strangest stuff sometimes.
Got uptight, I guess.
Haven't had a smoke since the news came. No reason. Just didn't feel like it. Felt like sitting here in the ruins of that old Council, kicking dirt and chunks of concrete. "Breaking ground" tomorrow. Starting it all up again. Building right over the old and forgetting about it.
Watcher and Slayer screwed up? Fine, make a new set. Shinier. Good as new. Just gotta get rid of this old mess.
Not a total mess, though. Me and Wes, we managed to scrape together a little of that redemption stuff Angel was always going on about. Wonder if any of that was in these burnt-up pages floating around in the dust?
Bet not. Bet they had a million memos on the many ways in which The Slayer and The Watcher fucked up. Wesley Wyndham-Price, Failure. Check. Helped save the world later on? Sorry, missed that episode.
Least he doesn't have to listen to them anymore. Or his asshole dad. I'm not saying he's in a better place, or whatever. He's just gone. Still.
Rest in Peace.
Good luck on that peace thing, Wes. Let me know what it's like.